


Bed Bound

by scarletmanuka



Series: To Rule the Heart [5]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Bed Rest, Lawn knows what's up, Multi, On hiatus but can kinda be read anyway, One day I hope to finish this, Polyamory, Unrequited Love, Vetinari is a shit patient, Which means the last chapter finishes nicely
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-16 00:26:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8079673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka
Summary: Vetinari is injured in an assassination attempt and Vimes has to try and keep him in bed to recover.





	1. The Petulent Patient

**Author's Note:**

> A new story in the series. Not sure how many chapters it will have yet but there's more to come :)

All thought stopped as Sam ran. His feet pounded on the pavement, and his breathing was loud as he gasped for air, but he didn’t slow. He couldn’t slow. The only thing going through his mind was  _ HavelockHavelockHavelockHavelockHavelock _ . 

He’d been working late when the clacks had come, otherwise he wouldn’t have heard so soon. It was brief, just a short code that told him there had been an assassination attempt on the Patrician. There were several they had devised so they could communicate without their messages being deciphered by just anyone. They also had a set of personal codes they used as well, but this had been sent by Drumknott. It meant there had been an attempt and Vetinari was injured, and the Commander was needed. He hadn’t even bothered with a carriage, trusting his feet to get him there faster.

He reached the Palace gates and the guards let him straight through. He ran up the stairs, and headed automatically for the Oblong Office, though if his mind had been working, he would know that Vetinari wouldn’t be there. He skidded to a stop in the waiting room and found Drumknott at his desk. The young clerk looked pale and scared, but when he spoke, his voice was steady. “Your Grace, thank you for coming so quickly.”

“What happened?” Vimes demanded, trying to keep the panic from his voice.  _ Act professional  _ he chastised himself.

“His Lordship had been out to have a meeting with Arch Councillor Ridcully at the university. He arrived back at the palace at approximately 9pm when three men attacked him. He fought them off, killing all of them, but during the struggle he was stabbed in the back.”

“Oh, gods.”

“Doctor Lawn was called in to attend. He’s been taken to his quarters; if you’ll be so kind as to follow me.”

Sam knew exactly where Vetinari’s bedroom was, but since he hadn’t been there in an official capacity since the poisoning attempt, he thought it best to allow Drumknott to guide him there. Havelock, Sybil, and himself had discussed the possibility of telling the clerk about their relationship, but had agreed to wait a little while longer. It was almost midnight - if the clerk had known of their relationship, would Sam have been informed sooner?

Doctor Lawn was just exiting the room when they arrived. “Ah, Commander, I thought I’d be seeing you here,” he said, extending his hand.

Sam shook, and forced himself to calm down. Talking to Lawn would only take a few minutes and then he could see Havelock. “How is he?”

“Lucky,” Lawn replied bluntly. “The bone deflected the blow so it’s not too deep. An inch or two lower though and it would have missed the shoulder blade completely which would have been lethal.”

“Is he going to be alright?”

“I managed to get the bleeding under control, and I stitched him up almost as good as Igor would have done, if I do say so myself. He’ll need bed rest for a good two weeks, but knowing how stubborn he is, I’ll be happy if he gets one.”

Sam snorted. “Good luck with that.”

Lawn’s expression was serious. “A week is the bare minimum he requires. I’m not sure how much damage there is to the joint, and to be frank, he’s not exactly young anymore. If he pushes himself too quickly, he could cause irreparable damage.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sam promised.

“I’m sure if anyone can convince him to stay in bed, it’s you,” Lawn said, his expression deadpan.

He stared at him, unsure what the man was getting at.

Lawn sighed and pulled Sam to one side, speaking quietly so Drumknott wouldn’t hear. “The painkiller I gave him has a tendency to make people...chatty. It’s a little like being under the influence of alcohol really. He’s not acting quite like himself and is being more forthcoming than usual.”

Sam’s eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“No one else was in the room at the time, but perhaps you should make sure that only those he trusts are allowed in? I’ve left enough painkiller for a couple of days because he’s going to need it, but it means the side effects will be constant.”

“I understand. Thank you, Doctor.”

“I’ll be back to check on him in the morning. But please, do whatever you must to convince him to take this seriously. His body requires time to heal.” With one last nod to Drumknott, Lawn left them.

“What was that about?” the clerk asked.

“The doctor is concerned about Vetinari not resting enough. He thinks it’s a good idea if I stay with him to try and keep him in line.” Sam didn’t like lying to the man, but the white lie would make it easier to explain why he would be spending so much time there.

“I suppose His Lordship  _ can _ be quite stubborn,” Drumknott mused.

Sam laughed. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“Well, I’ll let you see him now. I’d better get back to my desk. There have been dark clerks scurrying around all evening, and I’m sure they’ll be wanting information.”

“Do me a favour?” Sam asked. “Before I left the Watch House I sent word to Captain Carrot, asking him come here as soon as he can. When he arrives can you ask him to get Detritus, Bluejohn, and Dorfl here for security?”

The clerk’s eyes flickered to the Palace Guards standing outside the bedroom door, and the dark clerk who lingered down the hall. “Are you sure that’s entirely necessary, Your Grace?” 

“I know it’ll ruffle some feathers, but I’d feel better knowing my own men were here.” He didn’t add that he didn't trust the Patrician’s dark clerks as far as he could throw them. Policing should be done in the open, transparently - not done in the shadows with cloak and dagger.

“Very well, sir.” Drumknott nodded and left, and Sam turned to the door. The guards allowed him entry, but they seemed reluctant. The room was dimly lit, with only two candles on the desk providing illumination. He moved quietly over to the bed and the still figure that lay upon it.

Havelock’s eyes were closed, and his face was pasty. He was shirtless and a large bandage was wrapped around his shoulder, looping under his right armpit, the blanket tucked around his stomach. Sam sat on the edge of the bed and linked their fingers together. Alone in the room, he allowed himself to break down. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on the bed, breathing hard. “Oh, Havelock,” he murmured, his voice close to breaking. Seeing his lover looking so fragile was shaking him to his core. This was the first time that the man had been in danger since they’d gotten together and it was worse than he’d expected. He remembered how Havelock had clung to him when he’d gotten back from his ordeal with Carcer, and he’d passed comment about the man overreacting. He understood now what he’d been feeling. He felt that if he let go and stopped touching him, he might slip from his grasp.

Fingers squeezed his. “Sam?” Havelock asked, his voice a whisper.

“Havelock, it’s me, I’m here.” He sat up and placed his hands on either side of his face, peppering the pale skin with kisses. “Gods, I could have lost you,” he almost cried, squeezing his eyes shut against the wave of emotion that rolled over him. 

“You’ll never lose me, Sam. I’m not going anywhere.” He shifted, and Sam moved back and helped him to sit up, piling pillows behind him. He picked up the glass of water on the bedside table and held it to dry lips, encouraging his lover to drink. “Thank you,” he said softly once he’d drunk, leaning back against the pillows. His eyes drooped closed but he fought to keep them open.  _ Stubborn git _ thought Sam. 

“You should rest,” he told him, stroking his face.

“No,” he whined. “I want to stay awake so I can be with you.”

“I forgot that you’re one of  _ those _ patients,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. He huffed. “Fine, I won’t make you go to sleep just yet, but you’re not to leave this bed. Understand?” 

His eyes were glazed, but Havelock still managed a smouldering look. “I’ll be more inclined to stay in bed if you get in with me.”

“Havelock, you’ve just been stabbed. You’re in no condition for shenanigans.”

“I just want to be close to you. Please, Sam?”

There was nothing more Sam wanted to do than to get into bed and hold him close, but he had to keep his head. “I’ve had Carrot and some other officers sent for, and Drumknott will be checking in again soon. Someone is bound to walk in on us and are you really up to explaining all this right now? Besides, the people responsible are still out there. You might have killed the assassins, but someone arranged it and I want to find them.” He didn’t have to explain what he wanted to do to them. Havelock pouted at him, and if Lawn hadn’t warned him about the painkiller’s side effects, Sam would be inclined to think someone had found another lookalike. “How about a compromise? Once everyone has been by and I’ve dealt with it, I’ll give instructions for us not to be disturbed so you can sleep through the night. I’ll get in with you then.”

Havelock thought about this, his eyes closing and his mouth moving as he talked it over to himself. He opened his eyes again, and nodded. “It’s a deal.” His eyes were still glazed, and Sam felt his concern grow. He took hold of the slender hand closest to him in both of his and rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of it,

“How are you feeling?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Do you need more medicine?”

Havelock gave him a small smile and sagged further back into the pillows. The smile turned into a grimace as he put too much pressure on his back. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, Sam. The worst is over, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“After I had killed the last man, I realised I was injured. I managed to call for help, but as I lay there in a pool of my own blood, I experienced more pain than I ever thought possible.”

Sam reached up with one hand to cup his cheek. “A knife in the back will do that.”

Havelock shook his head. “No, it wasn’t from my wound. It was the sudden thought that I might die and I would never have gotten the chance to tell you how much I love you, Sam.”

The door had swung open, and Drumknott froze as he caught the tailend of the sentence and saw the personal touches. “A...ap...apolgies, Your Lordship. I, er, I didn't mean to, um, intrude,” he stammered. “I just, um, came, to ah, tell the Commander that Captain Carrot is here as requested.”

Sam sighed, and his head sank down onto the bed. “Great,” he muttered. He felt irrationally angry at the young clerk. He’d dreamed of the day when he and Havelock would acknowledge that they loved each other, and the moment had been ruined by Drumknott’s awkward entrance. And now Sam couldn’t even tell Havelock immediately that he felt the same way. “I’ll be out in a minute.” The clerk nodded, and hurried out, leaving them alone. “Looks like we’ll be having that conversation with him sooner than we expected,” he said, standing up.

“Don’t worry at it, Sam. Drumknott is loyal to me - he won’t tell anyone.”

Sam bent and brushed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back soon, Havelock.” 

Carrot was waiting in the corridor outside and Sam led him down the hallway until they came to an empty antechamber. 

“How is he doing, sir?” Carrot asked, his face serious.

Sam scrubbed at his face with his hands, feeling the scratch of his stubble. “It could have been bad, Carrot. He got lucky. Doctor Lawn thinks he’s going to need to be bullied though to aid a quicker recovery. I can’t see Drumknott managing that so I’m appointing myself Official Bully. I’m going to need you to take the lead in this investigation so I can remain here.”

“Of course, sir. Anything you need. How did you want me to proceed?”

“Have the bodies of the assassins taken to the morgue. Get Igor to take a look at them, see what information he can gleam. I want Cheery working forensics in the courtyard where it happened. Check with the local gargoyles and see if any of them saw anything. I want the driver of the carriage and the palace guards on duty tonight questioned immediately. And I want you to report to me in person at least once a day to keep me posted on the investigation.”

“On it, sir.”

“Oh, and can you send someone up to Sator Square to give Sybil a note from me letting her know that I won’t be home for a few days?”

Detritus, Bluejohn, and Dorfl arrived and while Carrot dealt with the changing of the guard, Sam scrawled a note to Sybil. It read:

_ Havelock has been injured so I’m going to stay here and make sure he’s looked after. I’m not sure how long it will take, but I’ll try to get up to see you and Young Sam as often as I can. I hope you don’t mind...I know it’s a lot to ask, me being gone for so long, but I can’t leave him with no one. I’m also worried that someone might try another attempt on his life and I don’t trust his safety to anyone else. I hope you understand. Sam. _

Carrot took the note and told Sam he’d deliver it personally to Sybil, and would arrange for some clothes and other essentials to be sent down in the morning. Once he’d gone, Sam checked the security himself, happy with the golem outside the door and a troll patrolling the floors above and below. He then squared himself and went to find Drumknott.

The clerk was still at his desk, despite the late hour. He glanced up as Sam entered and his cheeks tinged pink as he looked away. 

“Drumknott, we need to talk,” Sam told him without preamble, and walked through to the Oblong Office, not waiting to see if the young man would follow him or not. He did, a moment later, and he shut the door and then stood fidgeting before the Commander. “Look, about what you saw earlier,” Sam began.

“Lord Vetinari is in love with you,” Drumknott blurted. He looked at the floor, avoiding eye contact.

“So it would seem. That was the first time he’d said it.”

“Do you love him?” It came out as a whisper.

Sam sighed and crossed to one of the chairs in front of the large desk. He sat and used his foot to nudge the other chair towards Drumknott. Once the young man was also seated, he leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, I do. But he doesn’t know that yet. It’s a bit of a complicated situation.”

“Does Lady Sybil know?”

“She’s the one who got us together in the first place,” Sam told him with a wry grin. Drumknott was still looking at his feet, but nodded. He wiped at his cheek, and Sam was amazed to realise that he was crying. Several things clicked into place. “Oh, Drumknott, I’m sorry. I didn't know you felt that way about him.”

Drumknott shrugged. “I always knew it would be unrequited. And that didn't bother me because he was always married to his work. I guess it just hurts, knowing that it’s not me who earned his love.”

Sam reached out and clapped him on the shoulder. “You are very special to him, Drumknott. He trusts you, and that’s a rare thing. I know it’s not exactly what you want to hear, but he does care for you.”

The clerk looked up and finally met his gaze. “Thank you for that, Your Grace. Can I ask that you keep this to yourself? I’d prefer if His Lordship didn't know about this.”

Sam nodded, but was sure that Havelock probably already knew. There wasn’t much that got past him. “Of course. And you’ll keep this quiet as well?”

Drumknott stood. “I’d die before I betrayed him. You have not only my silence, but my word.” He crossed to the door, but turned as he reached it. “I’m glad that you make him happy,” he said. He looked as if he’d say more but then just shook his head, and left. When Sam followed, Drumknott wasn’t at his desk. He hoped the young man had taken himself to bed to get some rest.

Dorfl was an imposing presence standing in front of the door to the Patrician’s bed chamber. Sam passed several grumpy looking palace guards on his way, but refrained from commenting. The last thing he needed was to get into an argument about jurisdiction and undo the diplomacy that Carrot had managed effortlessly. 

“Constable,” Sam greeted the golem. “I don’t want anyone disturbing the Patrician’s sleep tonight. I’ll be with him if he requires anything, but he needs his rest so I don't want anyone coming in until I say so.”

“Understood, Sir” Dorfl replied.

“Good chap.” He slipped into the room, and crossed to the bed. Havelock had thrown the extra pillows on the ground and was laying on his stomach, fast asleep. Sam smiled as he picked up the pillows, sure he’d fall over them if he had to get up in the middle of the night. He undressed down to his underclothes, not feeling comfortable enough with the guard outside to sleep naked like he normally did. Besides, he didn't want Havelock to get the wrong impression. 

He blew out one of the candles and carried the remaining one over to the bed before blowing it out. He climbed into the space next to Havelock, and tried to maneuver into a comfortable position without either waking his lover or hurting him. He was only successful on one count as Havelock stirred and woke.

“Sam,” he said sleepily. “Are you staying now?”

“Yeah, I am,” he reassured him. “Come here.” Havelock shuffled closer to him and curled up against his side. Sam wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled his face against his good shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

“No, just you.”

“Yeah well, you’ve got me. Now go back to sleep, ya sappy sod.”

“Mmm, night, Sam.”

“Goodnight.” He pressed a kiss to the soft skin of his throat. “Oh, and Havelock?”

“Mmm?”

“I love you too.”


	2. Bribery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vimes must convince Vetinari to stay the fuck in bed.

Early morning light and the slight movements of the warm body pressed against him woke Sam. He couldn’t have gotten more than a couple of hours of broken sleep (he’d woken to give Havelock more painkillers) but he knew that he couldn’t afford to have a lie in. People would be coming by soon to check up on the Patrician, ask for orders, and report to Sam, so he really needed to be up and dressed quickly. He started to move from the bed but the arm curled about him tightened.

“Don’t go just yet,” Havelock murmured.

“I’m not leaving, just getting up.”

“Don’t.”

“I’ll be two feet away in the chair.”

“That’s two feet away too many.”

“People will be here soon.”

“And?”

“And I’m in my underwear. They will have enough on their plate without being scared to death as well.”

“I doubt that will happen.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmm, I think it more likely that I would have to fend them off you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re very sexy, Sam. More so when you’re barely clothed. I think it almost a certainty.”

“All the more reason for me to get dressed then.”

Lips found their way to his jaw and kissed along it. “Please stay? Just a little longer?” 

Sam groaned. It wasn’t often he heard Havelock beg, and he didn’t really want to get up anyway. He felt the hand that was draped over his stomach drop lower and slender fingers stroked over his morning wood. “You’re not playing fair,” he complained halfheartedly.

“Have you ever known me to play fair?”

“You’re really in no state for anything like this.”

“It’s a minor flesh wound, Sam. I’m not on my deathbed.”

“No, you’d be better behaved if you were on your deathbed.”

The pressure increased as he was palmed through his underwear. “I thought you liked it when I misbehave?”

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” His excuses were getting weaker.

“There’s nothing wrong with this arm,” Havelock purred.

There was a knock at the door, and Sam leapt out of the bed. “Doctor Lawn Is Here To Tend To The Patrician,” Dorfl announced through the door. 

Hurriedly pulling on enough clothes to be decent, and ignoring the amused smirk on Havelock’s face, Sam crossed to the door and opened it. “Doctor,” he greeted the man.

“Your Grace,” Lawn replied. There was the trace of a knowing smile on his lips. “You ah, missed a bit,” he said diplomatically, glancing down at his breeches. Sam looked down and saw he’d mis-laced them and they were gaping open. Lawn turned his back to allow him to right himself and placed his bag down on the chair. “How are you this morning, my Lord?” he asked his patient.

“I’m perfectly fine, Doctor. There’s no need for me to remain away from my duties any longer.”

Lawn gave the Patrician a level stare. “And that’s your medical opinion is it?”

Vimes snorted. “He actually has his Doctorate of Medicine and Applied Pathology.”

Lawn turned his stare onto Sam. “Not helping,” he said curtly. 

“Sorry.”

“If positions were reversed and it was the Commander who had been injured, would your medical opinion be to allow him back to work?”

“The situations are hardly comparable, Doctor. Sir Samuel has a much more physically demanding job than I. The most I must do is lift paperwork.” 

The doctor picked up a book that was on the bedside table and held it out to Havelock. “If you can pick this up and hold it above your head, I’ll agree that you are indeed perfectly fine. If however you cannot, then I expect you to allow me to do my job without further complaint.”

The two men held each other’s eyes, but Havelock did not reach for the book. Finally he broke the gaze and folded his arms across his chest with a huff. It changed mid-huff to a gasp and he quickly uncrossed his arms. Lawn was enough of a gentleman to refrain from commenting; instead he began to undo the bandaging so he could inspect the wound. 

Sam sat quietly and watched, noticing when Havelock allowed a wince or grimace to show on his face when the doctor couldn’t see. He must have been aware that his lover would see, and Sam realised he was being allowed to see something that no one else ever would. The Patrician was so aloof from everyone else, so vastly different that there was speculation as to if he was even human. Vetinari cultivated that belief and used it to his advantage, but in this room, Havelock was allowing Sam to see the person he actually was. 

Lawn finished redressing the wound and lectured his patient on the need for prolonged bed rest. “I really can’t stress enough how vital it is to give your body time to heal. You really must stay in bed.”

“If you insist, Doctor.”

“I do.” Lawn narrowed his eyes. “You need to rest. And no... _ strenuous _ activity either.”

“Why, whatever do you mean? Surely I can’t get up to any mischief if I’m confined to my bed all day? I’m sure Sir Samuel will keep a close eye on me to ensure I behave.”

“Yes, but will His Grace behave?” Sam felt himself flush at the knowing look Lawn gave him. “Just please, be...careful,” the doctor said with a small shake of his head. He gathered up his bag and promised to return the following day, then left.

“Well, that was one of the more embarrassing situations I’ve been in,” Sam muttered.

“Come now, Sam, it wasn’t  _ that _ bad.”

“I will be glad when you’re no longer in need of that medication,” he replied tartly. “I doubt Lawn will ever be able to take me seriously again.”

“Don’t be grumpy. You’d be amazed at what the good doctor got up to in his past - this is hardly likely to phase him.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Why don’t you come over here and I’ll try something else to make you feel better?”

“Havelock! You’re supposed to be behaving.” It didn't stop him from taking a seat on the edge of the bed though.

Havelock trailed a finger down Sam’s chest, biting on his lower lip as he looked up at his lover. It was a relatively innocent movement, but it caused Sam’s heart to pound in his chest. He fought the urge to pounce on the man. The desire must have been evident on his face, because Havelock shuffled closer to him and reached the finger up to touch his lips. Sam sucked the finger into his mouth, chocolate brown eyes locked on pale blue ones, their breathing the only sound in the room. He grazed his teeth along the digit, and then traced the area with his tongue, causing a guttural sound to escape from the lips of the Patrician. “Sam,  _ please _ .”

He closed his eyes, trying to find some control. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he managed to refuse.

“You won’t. You know how to be gentle with me.”

“Gods, why can’t I ever say no to you?” he said with a huff, giving in, but his lips quirked into a smile afterwards. 

“Because you love me?” Havelock suggested almost shyly, as if he still wasn’t certain.

“Sometimes I’m really not too sure why, but yes, you incorrigible bastard, I do love you.” A thrill went through him at saying the words again. “Now, you really are supposed to be resting so you’d better lie back and not move. If you do, I’ll stop. Understood?”

“Yes, Sam.”

He rolled his eyes. “If only I knew before, the secret to getting you to behave.” He leant forward and pressed open mouthed kisses to Havelock’s chest, avoiding the bandaging and those spots he knew to be ticklish so he didn't jolt him. He worked his way downwards, nosing at the fine sprinkling of hair over his sternum, sucking gently on the soft skin of his abdomen, and running his fingers under the band of his underclothing. He worked the garment off, pulling it down over pale thighs, pressing kisses to the exposed skin as he went, down over knees and calves before hooking them over feet. He kissed the top of each foot, and then worked his way back up the legs, kissing, and sucking, and caressing. 

He’d learned quickly what Havelock responded to best, and the things that didn’t elicit the reaction he was after. He worked the body beneath him like a lute, drawing gasps and shivers from the normally reserved man. He avoided the hard cock that twitched involuntarily at certain touches, instead licking his way up hip bones, and trailing fingers over the dip of his stomach. He looked up and saw that Havelock’s eyes were closed, his mouth open slightly as he delighted in the sensations. Either the painkillers or what Sam was doing (or more likely both combined) had enabled him to relax and all tension was gone from his features. 

Sam worked upwards even more, licking at one nipple and using the pad of his thumb to work the other to hardness. He licked along one prominent collarbone, his tongue dipping into the hollow while his fingers remained busy flicking at the hard nubs of his nipples. He then moved to his throat, inhaling deeply the scent of his lover, slightly spicy and woody. He nipped at the pulsepoint, enough to tease but not enough to leave a mark. He grinned as Havelock gasped his name, and captured his mouth in a kiss. It started out soft and gentle, but became more heated as they continued. Havelock was panting, and the sounds he was making were going straight to Sam’s cock. He still marvelled at how much he felt needed and desired by this amazing man. That he - plain old Sam Vimes - could reduce the most powerful man on the Disc to a breathy, begging mess was intoxicating.

“Sam,  _ please. _ ”

His hips had bucked against the body above him, and Sam pulled back, locking his arms so he hovered above him, his body out of reach. “What did I say about you being perfectly still?” 

“I need you. Gods, Sam, I need you so much.”

“And I need you to be still.”

Havelock pouted, and willed himself to settle.

“That’s better,” Sam murmured encouragingly. He lean forward and their lips met in another kiss, but Sam pulled away quickly and moved down the lithe body beneath him. He ran his tongue up the vein on the underside of the long cock that lay against the taut skin of Havelock’s stomach, and then returned to the base to do it again. Havelock shuddered at the sensation, and Sam sucked the head of his cock into his mouth. The pre-come was salty against his lips, and he swirled his tongue around to get it all. He moved one hand to the lower shaft and started up a rhythm with both hand and mouth; slow, deliberate movements, with his cheeks hollowed to allow the perfect amount of suction. 

Hands were twined in his hair, and Havelock started to whisper Sam’s name, over and over again. He sped up his movements, recognising the small signs that told him his lover was close. A hand was released from his hair and he cast his eyes up to see Havelock clamp it over his mouth, stifling the sounds he made as he came. Sam swallowed around him, and once Havelock stilled, he pressed one final kiss to the tip of his cock, and moved up the bed to lay next to him.

“Feeling better?” Sam asked with a smirk.

Havelock let out a shaky breath. “Much. Though I do seem to recall I got you over to the bed so I could make  _ you _ feel better about the situation.” His hand moved down to rest on Sam’s breeches, but stopped as a warm hand was laid on top of it.

“No, I’m alright. I’m happy to do this for you, but you really do need to rest.”

Their eyes met, and he could see that Havelock wanted to argue the point. He must have been able to read the determination in Sam’s eyes though, as he conceded. “As soon as I’m better, I’ll be replaying the favour,” he promised.

“I look forward to it. Now, I really need to get out of this bed since I’m expecting Carrot to report anytime.”

“If you must.”

He kissed him again, and gave him a smile. “I do love you. I hope you know that.”

“I never doubted it when you spoke the words.”

Sam shrugged, and sat up. “I just feel like I need to keep telling you.”

Pale blue eyes looked at him fondly. “I’m happy to hear it as often as you need to say it.”

“You’re turning me into a sappy sod,” Sam complained as he pulled on his boots. 

“I don’t think the blame can be laid entirely at my feet,” Havelock retorted. “I’m certain that Sybil and the baby have had a hand in that as well.”

He grunted, and stood up, stamping his boots to settle them in place. “Maybe.”

“Does it really bother you so much?” 

There was a flicker of uncertainty in those eyes and Sam knelt onto the bed and touched his cheek with the back of his hand. “No, not really. I do have a reputation to uphold though.”

“Never fear, Sam. As far as anyone will ever hear from me, you’re still a grumpy bastard.”

He grinned. “You say the sweetest things.” There was a knock at the door and Sam pressed a quick kiss to his lips before standing up. “Yes, Dorfl?” he called.

“Lady Sybil Is Here To See You And The Patrician, Sir.”


	3. Visiting Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff so fluffy you'll probably lose your breakfast.

Sam opened the door and smiled as he saw his wife with Young Sam in her arms. One of the palace servants was standing behind her, struggling under the weight of a bag and basket. He beckoned them inside, and once the servant had unloaded the bags, he bowed and left.

Sybil kissed Sam and handed him the baby and then crossed to the bed where she fussed over the patient. “Whatever have you gone and done now, Havelock?” she asked as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“It’s nothing, Sybil. I’ll be up and about in no time.”

“No, he won’t,” Sam said with a glare, knowing it lost some of its potency by the fact that he had a cooing baby in his arms. “A knife in the back is not  _ nothing _ .”

“Good gracious!” Sybil raised an eyebrow. “Havelock, you’re slipping.”

“I know. Old age catches up with us all I suppose.”

“Try not to let it happen again.”

“I’ll make it a priority.”

“Did you bring the whole house?” Sam asked, as he toed the bag on the floor.

“No dear, just enough clothes for you to get by for a week. Also, Willikins put together some food for breakfast.”

“There’s no need for him to stay for a whole week,” Havelock protested. 

“Hush, dear. You don’t get a say in the matter,” Sybil told him absently, pulling him forward so she could inspect his back.

“You do know I’m still the Patrician, right?” he grumbled against her shoulder. 

Satisfied with the dressing Lawn had done, she pushed him back against the pillows and patted his cheek. “Yes, dear. But Patrician or not, you still don’t get a say in the matter.”

Sam shared with Havelock a look that simultaneously conveyed just much they were put upon, but also how much they both loved it. He reasoned that it was unusual for the man to have had anyone to care about him in the past, and as much as he was a difficult patient, he didn’t seem to overly mind the attention. In fact, the more Sam thought about it, the less of a pain in the arse Havelock was being this time compared to when he was poisoned. He wondered if it was because of the changes to their personal relationship. Back then, the man had needed to maintain his reputation as infallible and in control, but now he could allow himself to show a little weakness in front of both Sam and Sybil. He trusted that they would care for him, and not use the information against him. His stubbornness hadn’t abated at all, but that need to remain distant and aloof definitely had.

“Have you any news of who might be behind the attack?” Sybil asked as she stood and began to unpack some food from the basket. 

Sam took her place on the edge of the bed and bounced the baby on his lap. “Carrot should be here soon to report about anything they’ve found so hopefully we’ll know more soon.”

“My dark clerks had heard some whispers coming out of Klatch about a rogue political group who have some strong opinions on our trade agreements with their current government,” Havelock told him. He extended a finger out to the baby who grasped it in his chubby hand and pulled it directly into his mouth.

“For the love of all the could even be tainted with anything slightly holy, can it for once not be the bloody Klatchians?” Sam demanded.

“I’m sure there are others I have also offended to the extent that an assassination was warranted,” the Patrician said blandly. “I was merely providing you with information that could be helpful in your continued investigation.”

Huh. That stopped Sam in his tracks. As stoic as his lover was acting, this proved he was more thrown by the attempt that he was letting on. Havelock  _ never _ overtly offered anything that would help an investigation. Sam watched as the assassin carefully wiped at the drool that was running down Young Sam’s chin as he continued to gnaw on one of those slender fingers. His eyes had lost their usual cunning glint and were watching the baby fondly, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. A few things clicked into place and it became apparent that the Patrician was concerned that his new family may be at risk as well. “I’ll make sure we follow that line of enquiry up,” he said, unable to help his own smile as he watched them.

“I do hope you can get this mess sorted quickly,” Sybil said as she handed a plate of breakfast to Havelock. He took it one handedly, not wanting to deny the baby his teething toy.

“You don’t have to wait till then to have your husband back, Sybil.”

She directed a withering glare at the patient. “Havelock, did the blade dull your wits by any chance? How many times do I have to tell you that I’m more than happy for Sam to be here with you? I only wish to have it sorted as quickly as possible so there is no further danger to yourself.”

“Be that as it may, it’s not fair to either yourself or Sam that he be away from you for so long. It is too much of an imposition.”

She looked pointedly at her husband. “Sam, please tell Havelock what you told me in the note you sent.”

Sam felt his cheeks redden. “Is that really necessary, dear?”

“I believe it is.”

“I can’t remember the  _ exact _ words,” he muttered. “I wasn’t really thinking straight at the time.”

“I’m sure the general gist will do. Though to be honest, you said more between the lines than you did in actual words.”

“Well, I’m worried that there might be another attempt…”

“Samuel Vimes, you are being deliberately nebulous.”

“What do you want me to say?” he asked in frustration. 

Her eyes narrowed. “I want you to explain to Havelock, using grown up words if it’s not too much trouble, the specific reason it’s not a bother that you stay with him.”

Sam threw in the air the arm that wasn’t holding the baby. “He already knows I love him! What other explanation should he need?”

Sybil clapped her hands together and let out a sound that would have been more at home coming from a pre-teen female. “You finally told him!”

As much as he tried, he couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face. “Yes, love, I told him.”

Unable to contain her excitement, Sybil leaned over the bed and pulled both men to her in an expansive hug and Young Sam giggled as he was caught up in it. “I’m so happy for the both of you!” she cried. She squeezed them tighter, and only let them go when a grimace flashed across Havelock’s face. “Oh, sorry, didn't mean to hurt you.”

“It’s more than alright, Sybil. Considering the situation, the norm would be for you to be pummeling me into the ground for sleeping with your husband. Some slight discomfort due to your happiness is more than manageable.”

“Yes, well, I doubt any of us could be referred to as  _ normal _ so I’m more than happy that we don’t fit into that category.”

“Speak for yourself!” Sam protested. “There’s nothing abnormal about me.”

His wife snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, dear.”

“What? How exactly am I not normal?” Sam spluttered.

Havelock raised an eyebrow at him and gestured at the three of them. “None of this is giving you a hint?”

“Our situation might not be normal, but that doesn’t mean  _ I’m _ not!”

“Honestly, Sam, why would you  _ want _ to be normal?” Sybil asked in exasperation.

Feeling his cheeks heat, her husband grasped at straws. “I don’t know,” he offered lamely. “It just seems that I...should?”

She rolled her eyes. “I rather think you’re arguing just for the sake of arguing. But enough of that, I should really be getting going. Lady Geraldine Delilah Puffalot the Fourth has come down with a slight case of scalemite and I want to get right on that before she can pass it along to any of the others.” She bustled about the room, collecting her things and taking the baby from Sam. “Make sure you finish your breakfast, and I’ll try and pop by tomorrow.” She pressed a kiss to Havelock’s cheek and one to Sam’s lips and smiled broadly at them. “I really am so very pleased,” she told them again just before she left.

Once she was gone, the room felt much more empty and chill. Havelock reached across and took Sam’s hand and they exchanged their own smile. “How did we get so lucky?” he mused.

Sam shrugged. “No idea, but two bastards like us have no right to be this bloody happy.”

“Regrets?”

“Not a single one.”


End file.
